


learning (and re-learning)

by despairingdignities



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, rated mature for possible future chapters, rupert is the thirteenth doctor's companion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despairingdignities/pseuds/despairingdignities
Summary: Three months. Just three months.On the run from the power-hungry Family of Blood, the Thirteenth Doctor and Missy undergo the Chameleon Arch. It's harder to keep the two separate than anyone could have anticipated.





	learning (and re-learning)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [an education of sorts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726082) by [kissmeinnewyork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmeinnewyork/pseuds/kissmeinnewyork). 



> Harriet is the wonderful idea of the equally wonderful Hannah, thanks for letting me borrow her!
> 
> This fic was inspired by a fic of Hannah's (which I love) called 'an education of sorts' and I commented in our group chat about what it would be like with Thirteen. And thus the character of Joanna was discussed and created, and we fell in love with them, and this happened!
> 
> It's also based on the 'Human Nature' episode of Doctor Who.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!

-

_“I’m not doing it, Doctor. Not after last time.”_

_The Doctor took a lengthy stride forward and firmly took her hand. Her grip was warm and not entirely unwelcome._

_She noticed, startled, that the other woman’s green eyes were filled with tears, brimming over._

_“I don’t want to do it either,” the Doctor confessed, in a rare moment of vulnerability, “but I almost lost you once. And I’m not risking giving the universe a second shot at you, Missy.”_

_Missy was adamant, though, and anxious. “No. I’m not going to do it and you can’t make me.”_

_Something changed in her Doctor then, she could see it – her body stiffened like cardboard and it was a few moments before she even breathed again – her tears evaporated as though they had never been there, replaced with a cold determination._

_“No, I can’t,” the blonde replied, lips pressed together, dead-set. Her jaw tightened and her hand slipped away from Missy’s, leaving an odd empty feeling behind. “But if you won’t do it, then I’ll have to make this stop.”_

_The Doctor was most of the way to the TARDIS door when she looked back, hand poised to open it, to expose herself to the horrors outside._

_“I’d rather let them have me than you,” she said._

_Her words were barely audible and she was clearly terrified of what she might have to do should Missy not comply with her plan._

_Missy’s hearts stopped. “No, you can’t…you just can’t…” They couldn’t have the Doctor and she was sure that the other Time Lady knew how dangerous it would be to give herself to the Family on a plate. But the Doctor was pushing down on the handle, her breaths growing more and more unsteady the more it creaked closer to clicking open._

_“Fine!” Missy almost screamed. This situation might be bad, but losing her Doctor would be so much worse. “I’ll do it, I’ll do anything, just please don’t hand yourself over to them!”_

_Relief was visible in every inch of the Time Lady as she eased her hand away from the handle. It was slick with sweat and her hearts hammered so hard she felt they might have drilled through her chest had it been left a moment longer. Tears returned to those eyes as she turned back and took shaky steps back towards her oldest friend._

_“Missy,” she whispered urgently, wrapping her arms around her, resting her chin on her shoulder. “Whatever this ends up doing to us, whatever we are, wherever we go…it’s just three months. And I will still love you every second of it.”_

_Missy clung to the Doctor for dear life. They were both terrified of the creatures outside, of what they could do, what they might do if they got their hands on either of them. The brunette pulled back slightly, stood on her tip-toes, and put her lips to the blonde’s, arms returning themselves to the other woman’s waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space in between._

_The kiss was desperate, a promise of love no matter what._

_“I love you,” the renegades whispered to each other, resting their foreheads together, seeing beyond the coloured irises and into the minds behind them._

_Too soon, Rupert came back from his task - looking through the rooms for the watches the Doctor had requested - having found them._

_They stepped hesitantly away from each other, their eyes saying things words could not. The Doctor found the metal contraptions necessary and clipped the watches into place, her hand in Missy’s the entire time – when she let go, there was a sense of finality about it._

_“Is this…is this going to hurt?” Rupert asked uncertainly as the Doctor tightened the device around her head, then assisted Missy with hers. It was time._

_“Yes,” they replied at once. “A lot.”_

_The Doctor nodded once at Rupert, telling him to activate the arches, then looked at Missy once more._

_"I love you."_

_What hurt more than her own pain, for Missy, was the moment the Doctor started screaming._

-

Harriet jolted awake, breathing heavily, sweating from the pressure of it all; her blue eyes flew open to take in the still-unfamiliar environment of the Cambridge University staff room. The headmaster, a rather unremarkable man, was still droning on, and she supposed that the plainness of his voice, and the uninspiring nature of his speech, was why she had fallen asleep in the first place. A few choice glances around the room, surveying her co-workers, found that several of them were also jumping at the chance to take catnaps, so she’d hardly be judged for it.

He was no Lincoln, that much was clear; he didn’t know how to use words, and he had no presence at all. Harriet would almost like to lecture him on how to write a good speech and deliver it properly, but that obviously wouldn’t be possible. Employees don’t lecture their bosses if they aim to _remain_ an employee.

This mysterious blonde had showed up quite a few times in these nonsensical dreams and Harriet had no idea whatsoever who she could be; surely, she’d remember meeting someone with a face like hers. It’s memorable.

The dreams had started happening over the past few days, ever since she started this job, and she wasn’t convinced anymore that the university wasn’t, in fact, haunted, despite the assurances of the tour guide. Were these the memories of some unfortunate past student? She didn’t quite know, and there was certainly no professor of the paranormal for her to ask.  And they always prompted questions. What is she not doing? After _what_ last time?

None of the dreams made sense, and it had almost been like she was conscious – like they were lucid dreams - but she could never do anything to change the events.

“We’ve got a new chemistry teacher joining the faculty…” Harriet forced herself to listen to the Head’s speech, to distract herself from the unsettling feeling in her stomach. “So, I’d like you all to give her the most favourable welcome you can.”

_Fucking brilliant,_ Harriet thought, _more people to annoy me._

A woman rushed in through the staffroom door. It slammed shut behind her, in contrast to the rest, who preferred to shut it behind them quietly. The newcomer crashed into the vacant chair next to Harriet, a symbol of how the rest of the professors already gave Harriet a wide berth. Not her, though, she clearly didn’t much care about the “don’t come near me” vibe Harriet had about her.

“Ah, there she is,” the headmaster said, appeased. “Perhaps you would be able to make your own introductions?”

He was eager to leave, too, to stop talking.

“Sorry I’m so late,” the woman gushed. Her accent was Yorkshire, but it had slightly more of a lilt than similar accents Harriet had heard, less harsh so to speak. “Couple of days of _terrible bloody flu_ , and then getting to grips with the commute, y'know? My name’s Joanna Smith, and it’s a pleasure to be here.”

Joanna, now with a name to her face, looked over at her with an expectant grin. When Harriet got a good look at her face (although it was obscured slightly by the blonde tresses falling wildly across it) she realised that it was _her_. _The woman from her dream._ How the _fuck_ could she explain someone she’s never met showing up in her dreams?

The eyes were unmistakeable. Harriet swallowed, to loosen her tight throat.

“Harriet Saxon,” she replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joanna.”

 


End file.
